


The Cabana

by SharkGirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aerial silks, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender!Shiro, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Investor!Lotor, M/M, Multi, Performer!Lance, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sappy, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Swing, Song Fic (sort of lol), Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkGirl/pseuds/SharkGirl
Summary: Lance is a burlesque and aerial silk dancer at a club called The Cabana. He dreams of being a star, but stays behind because of his relationship with the bar manager, his lover without a formal title, Shiro.One day, a rich and handsome potential investor pays the club a visit and shows an interest in Lance. After a misunderstanding - involving a split lip and bloody knuckles - the three come to a sort of agreement. One that benefits them all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!! I've been sitting on this fic for a while, but I'm finally posting it~  
> And, yes, it's very, _very_ loosely based on the song Copacabana by Barry Manilow (but they get a much happier ending than the characters in the song)
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely Jes~ Special thanks to Jes, Ghost, and Alex for supporting this fic!  
> Please enjoy this extremely heavily Shance installment!!  
> (Extra note: This fic is complete and will be posted in three chapters, since it grew rather lengthy)

On the third moon of Kopa in the Maeneleu system, stood the hottest club this side of the Habana Nebula. It was called The Cabana and it was always hustling and bustling. Kopa’s other two moons were home to huge trade ports and so, anyone moving cargo in the area simply _had_ to make a pit stop.

The club itself wasn’t overly large, with seating for maybe a hundred or so, but the acts played to a full house most every night. Pilots, diplomats, and the occasional unsavory space pirate came in droves, enjoying the unique refreshments and the exotic live performances.

Mostly, the acts consisted of scantily clad beings of all persuasions, moving to the music and keeping the audience entranced and thirsty for another round.

Currently, the stage showcased a beautiful alien with six legs and four arms, all of which were contorted in angles nearing the impossible. She hung from a swing, high above the floor, spinning and twirling and earning gasps from the enamored club goers.

Backstage, the next act was preparing for his cue. However, he found himself a bit preoccupied.

“Sh-Shiro…” Lance gasped out, a gold satin-encased hand coming to cover his mouth so no sounds could escape. The sequins on his costume glinted in the lights coming from the stage, creating a star-like effect on the dark floor and curtains around them.

“Lance,” Shiro moaned into his neck, one hand moving to lift the fringe above his hips just a bit higher while the other reached for Lance’s other gloved hand to lace their fingers. “You feel so good,” Shiro practically growled, bending Lance over the speaker and changing the angle so he could thrust deeper inside him.

“O-Oh!” Lance arched his back, his hand falling away from his mouth and coming to grip Shiro’s on his hip. He let his body go lax, his sweat-drenched forehead coming to rest on the top of the speaker. The bass from the music vibrated through his entire body, amplifying the sensations of his lover all around him. Inside him. “I’m…c-close…” he warned as the music neared its finale.

Shiro cursed, letting his head fall onto Lance’s exposed back, the skin slick and salty against his tongue as he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses across the tan expanse. “Me, too, baby,” he said, his hand sneaking between Lance’s legs and beneath the tight fabric of his costume.

“Hurry!” Lance urged in a hiss as the thunderous applause from the audience drowned out the music for a few beats. They were both nearly there. A few more thrusts and…

Shiro buried his face in Lance’s shoulder when he came, muffling his shout. And Lance, who’d managed to bring his gloved fingers to his mouth again, bit down hard on his knuckles to keep from crying out as delicious pleasure overwhelmed him.

They’d done it again. The thrill of possibly getting caught. The sound of the audience so close and yet unaware. How many times had Shiro taken Lance right before his act? Just offstage? And how many times had Lance coerced him into doing so?

“That was…so good…” Shiro murmured against his skin before pushing himself up. “You never cease to-” but he sputtered, one of the huge yellow feathers of Lance’s headpiece getting caught in his mouth.

Lance chuckled and then bit his lip when Shiro pulled out, giving his backside a light smack.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he chastised playfully before kissing the dip in Lance’s back, just above the rough, sequined fabric of his costume.

“Couldn’t help it, babe,” Lance drawled and stood back up, straightening his outfit. The audience was starting to quiet down so, any moment now, they’d be calling him out onto the stage. He bit back a snicker as Shiro tucked himself back into his pants, still ‘protected.’ That was sure to be uncomfortable later. “How do I look?” he asked, knowing his makeup was probably a bit smeared.

“Gorgeous,” Shiro said with a soft smile as he lifted his hand to cup Lance’s cheek. “As always.”

Warmth and happiness fluttered in Lance’s chest, but he simply batted his eyelashes. “Flatterer,” he accused before glancing down at the mess he’d made on the floor. “Oh, you might want to get that, Mr. Bar Manager,” he teased.

“I’m pretty sure backstage is out of my jurisdiction,” he offered in return. “But I’ll get it taken care of.”

“Good boy,” Lance replied, dragging a slightly damp gloved finger along Shiro’s jaw.

“Now, now.” Shiro snatched his wrist, pressing a kiss to the digit. “Aren’t you the one who likes being praised?” He quirked a brow and Lance ignored the heat that began pooling in his belly at the mere mention of it.

He had a show to put on.

Absently, he heard the announcer call his name, followed by loud clapping and the fanfare signaling his entrance. “Gotta go,” he said quickly, turning on his heel, but Shiro caught him, spinning him around. “Shiro?”

“Your headpiece,” he explained, reaching up and adjusting it so it sat properly on Lance’s head once more. Then he leaned forward, capturing his lips in a chaste but lingering kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

Lance smirked before dancing out of his lover’s hold. “Have I ever not?” he returned with a wink and then sashayed onto the stage just as the lights came up.

 

Shiro shook his head fondly as Lance started his routine. As always, he was flawless, moving perfectly with the music and drawing everyone’s attention. He was too good for this place and, not for the first time, Shiro wondered why he stuck around. Sure, the house was always full and the tips were good, but with talent like that, Lance could easily take his act on tour.

Still, there was the happy little notion that maybe Lance stayed there for him. Well, it was a long shot, but Shiro could always hope. After all, they were young and in love, who could ask for more?

With one last glance at his lover, who had reached out for the aerial silk lowered to the stage, Shiro made quick work of cleaning up any ‘evidence’ of their encounter – including stealthily removing his rubber and tossing it into the trash – and then headed back over to the bar.

He had a good team. Everyone did their job well and, honestly, most nights, he could probably leave them unattended and assist Lance with removing his costume after his performance. But there were also regulars who sought him out, so that would probably be unwise.

Tempting though it was.

When he made it back behind the smooth countertop, a woman immediately flagged him down, raising her empty glass and smiling widely at him. He returned the gesture and reached beneath the bar for a fresh tumbler.

A moment later, he garnished the rim and walked over to hand her the glowing concoction. “Your usual, Miss Nyma?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she hummed, happily accepting the drink. “That last one was shit,” she remarked before taking a sip. “Ah, much better. Yours are always the best.”

“And _you_ have had one too many,” Rolo, her long-time boyfriend and one of Shiro’s best bartenders sighed as he took the chip from beneath her napkin so he could settle her tab.

“I couldn’t leave without having one of Shiro’s,” she argued, sticking out her tongue and tossing one of her ponytails over her shoulder. “Wash the taste out of my mouth.”

Rolo grumbled from beside him and Shiro bit back a chuckle. She always did tend to push his buttons. Just like a _certain someone_ he knew.

Unconsciously, Shiro’s gaze drifted over to the stage where Lance hung suspended, his legs in a wide straddle and his arms moving to the music before he let himself unravel into a split facing the other direction. The audience gasped and then applauded when he landed safely, blowing them a kiss.

“He’s come a long way,” Nyma mused, drawing Shiro’s attention back to the bar. “Maybe I shouldn’t have quit performing…”

“And…that’s enough.” Rolo plucked the glass from her hands and threw his towel over his shoulder. “Mind if I take her home?” he asked Shiro.

“By all means,” he answered, once again trying not to laugh when Nyma pouted and, after some convincing, eventually conceded to being led toward the front of the club.

Shiro watched them go before clearing her napkin away and wiping down the counter. He wasn’t dissatisfied with his career. He was content to tend bar and watch Lance wow the crowd. It was nice. Much better than his life in the service.

All that remained of his old life was his cybernetic prosthesis, a body full of scars, and memories better left forgotten. He may not have chosen to come this far out into space, but had he not, he never would have met Lance. 

The crowd cheered as Lance did one last impressive twist before slowly lowering to the ground and taking a bow.

Yes. It had definitely been worth it.

 

Lance accepted a towel from one of the stagehands when he stepped off. He always did work up a sweat during his routine. Well, he’d also gotten quite the warm-up, after all. And, speaking of which, he was now hot, sweaty, _and_ sticky. A cool shower was exactly what he needed.

Of course, before he dared head back to the dressing room, Lance peeked out from behind the curtain, gaze searching until he spotted Shiro at the bar. He was happily chatting with a few cargo pilots, refilling their mugs with a thick, viscous liquid that looked more like fuel than a spirit. But, as if sensing Lance’s eyes on him, Shiro glanced up. He smiled and waved and Lance couldn’t help but to return the gesture.

‘I’ll be out in five,’ he mouthed, knowing Shiro understood when he nodded. Then Lance disappeared behind the curtain and made his way toward a familiar silver door.

Inside, the other performers were dolling themselves up, making sure their costumes fit just so, and that their headpieces were on straight. Lance waved to a few from the usual lineup before breezing past them toward the showers.

However, just as he removed his headpiece and peeled off the top half of his sequined ensemble, a familiar voice caught his attention.

“ _Somebody_ got lucky,” Ezor sang, dancing over to him and grinning like she knew more than she should.

“Oh?” Lance feigned innocence, pulling his costume the rest of the way down and stepping out of it. “And who might that be?”

“That might work on the new kids, but how long do you think I’ve known you?” She crossed her long arms over her chest and leaned against the tiled wall. “Besides,” she gave him a once over before quirking a brow, “Shiro’s really bad about leaving marks.”

Lance’s hand immediately flew to his neck as heat spread across his face to his ears. “Damn it! I told him not to…” But he trailed off as Ezor’s smile widened. “He didn’t leave any marks, did he?” he deadpanned, lowering his hand and removing one of his gloves.

“Nope,” Ezor chirped. “But that works every time.” She giggled. “So…let’s hear it.”

“Sorry, E,” he replied with a shake of his head. “You know I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

“Aww.” She pouted, making a show of jutting out her lower lip. “And here I was about to dish out the goods on the new investor…”

Lance perked up at that. Ezor was good at getting information. And something like that was pretty interesting. The Cabana was busy, yes, but an investor meant nicer costumes, a better dressing room, a maybe even a pay raise. “I’m listening…”

“Oh, no. Nice try,” she snorted. “I wanna hear about Shiro fucking you backstage first.”

“How did you-” But Lance stopped. She’d gotten him again.

“Lucky guess,” she offered and then caught his other glove when he threw it at her. “C’mon…gimme details.”

Lance sighed and rolled his eyes before turning the water on and stepping into the spray. Behind the curtain, Ezor’s shadow remained, as unmoving and stubborn as its owner. “Fine,” he conceded. “But bring me some conditioner first. I left it in my locker.”

A lovely shower – and a complete and thorough grilling from Ezor later – Lance felt refreshed. If not a bit rung out. He did love his fellow performers, but he was getting a little old for all the gossip.

Still, he was all ears when Ezor told him about the new investor. Apparently, he was the son of some huge mogul. One of those dictator businessman types that transported cargo on paper, but dealt with seedier products for a real profit.

Lance couldn’t care less what their patrons or supporters did for a living. Though, he did steer clear of concentrated Quintessence. That stuff could mess you up.

Ezor danced off, leaving him alone to wonder just what this new investor of theirs would look like. He hoped he was handsome or, at the very least, loaded. Which, according to Ezor’s report, he had _very_ deep pockets. Lance just had to play his cards right the night he showed up and, even if he was only the least bit generous, Lance could walk out with enough for Shiro and him to go on a nice, little vacation.

The Cabana was a fun place to work and all, but Lance had heard wonderful things about Arus and Altea. Both of which would be great for a getaway.

Or a honeymoon.

His cheeks heated at the thought. He wasn’t even sure if Shiro wanted something like that. But that was neither here nor there. He had to get the money first. So, wrapping himself in a clean, fluffy towel, he slipped on his sandals and walked over to his locker to change.

 

It was getting late. Soon the club would close for the evening and, after counting the tills and giving the place a good mopping, Shiro could get out of there.

He’d sent the rest of the team home, since most of their patrons had started filing out when the performances switched from sensual to comedic. He offhandedly wondered if their owner would eventually do away with those completely or if the man kept them on simply to clear the place out.

Lance, who had taken far longer than five minutes to shower, still hadn’t made an appearance, but that was to be expected. Shiro knew his lover well and, when it came to his skincare regimen, it could be another hour before he graced Shiro with his presence.

However, before they shut down, Lance sauntered out clad in what could only be described as a sheer robe. Underneath, he was wearing something else, but in the low light of the club, it was hard to tell exactly what.

“Sorry for the wait,” Lance said as he hopped onto a barstool and placed his elbows on the counter. “Think you could set me up with a little something?”

As a rule, the talent wasn’t supposed to consume any alcohol during their shift and, even though Lance’s was technically over, as bar manager, Shiro couldn’t very well break it. So, he mixed together some juices – ones he knew Lance liked – and garnished the glass with a few of his other favorites, including a berry that reminded them both of maraschino cherries from their home planet. Well, save for the fact they were a pulsating, glowing purple.

“Mmm…” Lance’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he took a long sip from his straw. “You really are the best.” He licked a droplet of juice from his bottom lip and then leaned forward with a smirk. “So, when do you get off?”

Shiro chuckled. Despite the fact that they’d been messing around for quite some time, Lance still liked to flirt, especially when there were still a few regulars milling about. “We close in twenty minutes,” he answered, absently wiping the counter. “I’m usually free after that.”

Lance smiled around his straw and then plucked one of the berries with his fingers, bringing it to his lips. “I wasn’t asking when your shift ended,” he teased, licking some of the froth from the underside of the berry before popping it into his mouth. It left a dimly glowing residue on his lips and tongue and Shiro couldn’t look away from the sight if someone paid him.

It went on like that, Lance practically torturing him by fellating his straw while the last remaining stragglers settled their tabs and drunkenly stumbled toward the exit. The man had no shame. Lance just happily smirked each time he caught Shiro staring, preening at the attention.

The last few minutes they were open were especially excruciating. And Shiro was at his wit’s end by the time the owner bid them both goodnight, trusting his bar manager to lock up once he’d finished cleaning.

The moment the door closed, Lance made his way behind the bar, strategically placing himself between Shiro and the edge of the counter. “So, got an answer for me, big boy?” he purred, fingers sliding up Shiro’s arms, blunt nails raking over both flesh and metal.

“You’re incorrigible,” Shiro growled, glancing up one last time to make sure they were alone before placing his hands under Lance’s backside and hoisting him up onto the counter.

Lance let out a delighted squeal which morphed into a moan when Shiro pressed their lips together.

“ _And_ you’re a tease,” he breathed against Lance’s mouth, tasting the sweet nectar on his tongue. “You riled me up on purpose.”

“I’d deny it,” Lance replied breathlessly before snaking his arms around Shiro’s neck. “But Mama taught me not to lie.” They kissed again, hot and frantic, like they didn’t have the club to themselves or all the time in the world. And when they broke for air, they were both panting.

“God, I want you right here,” Shiro gasped against his neck. “Tear this robe off and bend you over the bar.”

Lance moaned in response, lowering his hands to Shiro’s chest and giving an appreciative little squeeze of his pectorals. “Don’t,” he said and before Shiro could question what he meant, he continued. “This was expensive.” He toyed with the sheer fabric, a cheeky little grin curving his lips.

“I’d buy you a new one,” Shiro returned, his fingers tracing the hems and then moving to the knot in the sash. “But I can be patient,” he swore, knowing that their usual hotel room was already reserved for the night. Reluctantly, he pulled back, intent on cleaning up before they left, but Lance reached out, stopping him.

“You’re really going to leave me here like this?” he asked, leaning back on his hands and spreading his legs wide.

Shiro swallowed as heat pooled in his belly. Lance drove him crazy. And he knew it.

“And after all my attempts at seduction,” Lance went on, biting his lower lip and slowly untying his sash. He let the robe fall, the silky sheer fabric pooling on the counter where he sat. And Shiro would have swallowed again, had his mouth not gone completely dry.

Lance was wearing Shiro’s favorite costume. He’d only worn it for one performance and, after an extended post-show session with Shiro, he’d promised never to let others see him in it again.

It was a two piece number. The top was mostly strings of onyx-like beads that crisscrossed over his tan skin, leaving very little to the imagination. And the bottoms were extremely short, glittery shorts with more of the beaded lacing on the exposed sides.

And Lance looked absolutely sinful wearing it.

“Well?” Lance questioned when Shiro remained silent. “Or could it be you don’t remember this one-” but Shiro interrupted him, pressing their bodies close and locking their lips in another searing kiss. He felt Lance smile against his mouth, but he would let the other gloat. He’d gotten the exact reaction he’d wanted after all.

 

Lance was quite pleased with himself. After their earlier session before his performance, he got the feeling that tonight was going to be one of _those_. The kind where neither one of them got any sleep, but both somehow woke up refreshed before work the following afternoon.

He’d chosen his outfit very carefully, saving it for a special occasion. And tonight felt like the perfect opportunity to bring it out. The last time he’d worn it, Shiro had practically worshiped him from head to toe. And the church of Lance was open for service.

“Shiro…” he moaned as the other licked into his mouth, his hands everywhere at once. Lance wrapped his legs around his lover’s waist in an attempt to pull him closer, but apparently that was taken as a different cue and, a second later, Lance was hauled up, Shiro manhandling him until he was lying flat against the shorter end of the bar, their hips now perfectly lined up.

“You really want it tonight,” Shiro whispered harshly, despite them being alone, and then pressed his clothed erection against Lance’s.

Lance snickered, placing his hands on either side of his lover’s face. “I think _you_ do.”

“You’re damn right,” he replied and Lance shivered at how dark Shiro’s eyes had become, his pupils completely blown. “But I should really pay you back first.”

“Pay me back?” Lance quirked a brow.

“You did a real fine job working me up,” Shiro explained, one hand still on Lance’s waist, as if holding him down, and the other sneaking off to the side. “So, I should return the favor.”

Ooh. Now that was interesting.

It wasn’t like foreplay was out of the question. But most of their romps – outside of the hotel and, namely, in the club – were quickies. “Is that right?” Lance asked, excitement building in his chest and heat spreading throughout his body.

“Mhm,” Shiro said, his hand returning from where it had gone.

Lance opened his mouth to ask what he’d been reaching for, but the only sound that escaped was a shocked gasp as something wet and cold touched his bare skin. Shiro had grabbed a cube of ice and was slowly tracing nonsensical patterns on Lance’s stomach.

“Oh!” Lance tilted his head back, the hot and cold sensation sparking something inside him and already building him up. It was amazing how Shiro could do that. But, as quickly as it began, it stopped. And Lance was about to complain, but then it was back and somehow even better.

He chanced a glance down and moaned out loud as he watched Shiro mouth all over his skin.

Shiro pulled back and grinned, the ice cube caught between his teeth.

“Fuck, Shiro,” Lance gasped out, his hips bucking as Shiro dipped back down and continued his assault. “Why haven’t we, mmm, done this before?”

“Hnnn…” Shiro let the ice fall onto Lance’s skin and then continued swirling it around using only the tip of his tongue. Then he drew back. “I guess we normally just skip this part.”

“Well.” Lance sat up, what was left of the melting ice cube dripping down his belly and disappearing beneath his tiny shorts. “I think we should _definitely_ add this to our routine.”

“Yeah?” Shiro questioned.

“Yeah,” Lance confirmed and then gripped his lover’s face, pulling him back in for a kiss. Shiro’s lips and tongue were cool against his and Lance moaned again at that hot and cold sensation. He could get used to this. “Shiro,” he breathed, pulling back slightly. “I need you to fuck me.”

“I was sort of getting to that,” Shiro replied with a chuckle. “Before you interrupted me.”

“My bad.” He gave Shiro what surely must have been an unbelievable sheepish little grin. Then he scratched his lover’s scalp, moving his fingers through the short buzzed hair just above his ears. “I promise I won’t interrupt again, so…” He raked his teeth over his lower lip and batted his lashes. “Let’s put that tongue of yours to better use, shall we?”

Shiro smirked. “You want me to eat you out on top of the bar?”

Lance flushed, the heat spreading down his neck to his chest. “Geez, you don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“Not with you,” Shiro replied, easily flipping Lance onto his stomach and tugging down the glittery material, exposing his backside to the cool air. “You know people eat here,” he threw out, his hands already pulling Lance’s cheeks apart.

“Yeah,” Lance said, glancing over his shoulder. “So, why should you be the exception?” He was proud of that comeback and would have congratulated himself if his mind hadn’t turned completely to mush the moment Shiro’s tongue, still cool from the ice, swiped over his entrance. “F-Fuck!”

 

Shiro moaned against his lover’s skin, lapping at him and tasting the familiar fruity lube to which Lance was partial. It tingled on his tongue, one of its side effects, and had the flavor of a cross between a peach and a mango.

“You prepared yourself,” Shiro noted as he pulled back, smacking his lips.

“Uh h-huh,” Lance managed, his cheek pressed against the bar and his hands gripping its edges. “What did you think took me so long?”

Shiro had a few answers in mind, but decided not to tease Lance at the moment. Well, not in that way, at least. So, instead of responding verbally, he just spread his lover open further, pressing his tongue against the tight ring of muscle and eating up the other’s keening moans.

“Shiro…oh, _Shiro_ …” Lance ducked his head, bumping it against the counter and pushing his hips back as if trying to get more of Shiro’s mouth. “F-Fuck me…” he begged, almost sobbed, and then arched his back when Shiro breached him, his tongue working him up. “Oh!” Lance reached behind him and tugged his shorts further down his thighs, letting his cock spring free.

Shiro smirked and batted Lance’s hand away, brushing his fingertips over the smooth skin of his hip before barely grazing the base of his erection.

“Fucking fuck!” Lance cursed, his hips stuttering.

And after one more lingering swipe of his tongue, Shiro pulled back with a chuckle. “You have such a way with words,” he said, his own slightly slurred from the almost numbing sensation caused by the lubricant.

Lance turned around, his face flushed bright red, but his eyes dark and hungry. “You try being articulate when you’re being tongue-fucked against the bar.”

Shiro bit back a snicker, his thumb brushing over Lance’s sensitive skin and causing the other’s legs to tremble. “Should I stop?”

At that, Lance stood up, nearly knocking Shiro to the floor as he did, and kicked off his shorts before settling himself on top of the counter, his legs spread almost impossibly wide, everything on display. Impatiently, he palmed his erection, his fingers loosely wrapping around it as he gave a few strokes.

“Takashi Shirogane,” Lance began, his breath hitching as his fist reached the tip. “If you don’t let me ride your face on this bar in the next two seconds, you’re never touching this ass again.”

Well, Shiro certainly couldn’t argue with that. He moved closer, walking on his knees, and let his hands run up the length of Lance’s legs before coming to rest on his inner thighs. “Yes, _Sir_ ,” he teased and Lance flushed, but managed to pout.

“Now you’re throwing _your_ kinks my way, hmm?” But before Lance had a second to say anything else, Shiro tugged him forward until his ass was hanging off the edge, his fingers scrabbling to gain purchase so he wouldn’t fall flat on his back again. “Whoa!” he gasped, looking down at Shiro with wide eyes.

“My two seconds were almost up,” Shiro provided before returning to his work, loving the sounds he pulled from the other man.

Lance’s legs came to rest on Shiro’s shoulders, his heels digging into his lower back. “Oh shit, shit, shit,” Lance chanted, his hips rolling as he fucked himself on Shiro’s tongue. “G-Gonna come…”

Shiro was getting there, too. Every moan and gasp from Lance’s lips brought him closer to the edge. His cock ached in his pants, straining against the zipper. He quickly lowered a hand, releasing himself from his confines, and breathed out a sigh of relief.

One of Lance’s hands had made its way to the back of Shiro’s head, holding him still as he used his mouth. “Fuck…Shiro…fuck me, fuck me,” he called. Then, without warning, Shiro pulled back, licking a stripe up the underside of Lance’s bobbing erection. “ _Takashi!_ ” Lance practically screamed as he came, his cock twitching and making a mess of his belly and chest.

Shiro was quick to follow, the sight and sound of Lance’s orgasm proving too much for him. He spilled into his hand, his cheek coming to rest on Lance’s inner thigh as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

 

They didn’t speak for a moment. Only their quiet gasps for breath filled the empty club. Finally, Lance broke the silence.

“Holy shit,” he said, lifting himself on shaking arms so he could sit back on the counter. “That was-” but Shiro cut him off.

He stood up, pressing their foreheads together. “Go get dressed and meet me back out here,” he ordered, and Lance shivered deliciously at his authoritative tone. “I’m going to finish cleaning and then we’re going to go to the hotel and I’m going to make you scream my name again and again.”

Lance nodded dumbly, for once at a loss for words, and did as he was told. And, as he reached the dressing room door, he smiled to himself. He’d been right. It _was_ going to be one of those nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness!! And these two _aren't_ officially dating? Hmm... Also, Lotor hasn't even appeared yet, haha. But not to worry. He's definitely in the next installment!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next installment! Please enjoy~  
>  _His name was Lotor...he wore a diamond..._

When Lance awoke the next morning, he was sore but satisfied. Warm sunlight was filtering in through the blinds of their hotel room, the planet no longer eclipsing their moon. It took about thirty vargas to orbit, which made its cycles very similar to those of Earth.

Oh, how Lance missed his home planet. But, as he glanced over at the person slumbering beside him, he felt a little less homesick. Odd, he should find another Earthling so far out in space, but that wasn’t the only thing that had drawn him to Shiro.

There was just something about the other man. An air of mystery and a feeling of warmth and protection that seemed to exude from him like a calming aura. There was a lot Lance didn’t know about him, like how he’d lost his arm and gained the cybernetic prosthesis. Or where all of his scars had come from. But that didn’t matter.

Lance enjoyed being with Shiro and that was enough for now.

The bars of golden light interrupted by the blinds illuminated Shiro’s handsome face, relaxed in sleep. And one scar in particular caught Lance’s eye. Sure, he’d seen it before. It was particularly long and deep and stretched across of the bridge of Shiro’s nose.

Lance traced his finger along it, stifling a snicker when Shiro wrinkled his nose, his brows drawing together. He hadn’t meant to wake him, but, since he was up… “Good morning,” Lance whispered as Shiro’s eyelids fluttered open.

He looked dazed for a moment before he focused on Lance’s face, his lips curving up in a lazy smile. “’Morning,” he replied, his hand moving from where it was resting on Lance’s hip to brush along his jaw. “How are you feeling?”

“Me?” Lance questioned, feigning shock. “Oh, why _ever_ would you ask?” he teased, knowing full well the reason Shiro would be concerned. “But not big.” He grinned, shifting closer and barely wincing at the ache between his legs. “Seven’s always been my lucky number.”

Shiro brought his hand to his face, covering his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I may have gone a bit overboard.”

“Ya think?” Lance cocked his head to the side, but then snaked an arm around Shiro’s waist, resting his cheek on one of his pecs. “But I did rile you up, after all.” He lifted his hand and began drawing nonsensical patterns on Shiro’s chest. “Although, I should really be asking how _you’re_ feeling,” he went on. “I mean, I wasn’t the only one getting st-”

But Lance was cut off when Shiro rolled them over, caging Lance was his arms and pressing their lips together. “We have some time before we need to be at work,” he breathed when they broke for air, his cheeks as rosy as Lance’s felt.

“Yeah?” Lance tried to play it cool, running his hands up Shiro’s chest and lacing his fingers behind his neck. “And just what are you suggesting?”

Shiro smirked and, wow, did that always sent heat pooling in Lance’s belly. As did the way his lover’s perfect teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he pretended to consider their options. “Well,” Shiro began, his voice low, “I was thinking we could go for eight?”

 

Lance walked into The Cabana with a slight limp, but he couldn’t say he regretted anything. Besides, he still had a bit of time to warm up and make sure he was nice and limber for his first set. Shiro had gone ahead, needing to take inventory and knowing Lance liked long showers after even longer nights.

He waved to his lover, who’d just popped up behind the bar, a pencil in his mouth and a clipboard in his hands. Shiro smiled around the implement and then removed it to write down the number of whatever it was he’d just finished counting.

Shiro was so responsible. And Lance berated himself the moment he let that become a turn-on. He was at work now and, despite the fact that they’d probably fool around later, he had to at least try to be professional.

“Morning, Sunshine~” Ezor sang when Lance walked through the dressing room door. “I was surprised when Shiro came in for his shift without you.” She brought a finger to her lips and blinked owlishly. “I figured he’d worn you out and you were going to have to take a sick day.”

Lance rolled his eyes at her playful jab. “ _Please_ ,” he returned. “When have you ever known me to call out?”

“Well,” she held the syllable out, “there was the first time you and Shiro-”

“Okay, okay. _Other_ than that?” Lance waved her off and walked toward his locker.

“But it’s a good thing you’re here,” Ezor went on, skipping after him, her multi-colored hairtacle – Lance’s word for it – swishing behind her. “Because guess who’s supposedly paying us a visit today…” She laced her fingers behind her back and cocked her head, eagerly awaiting Lance’s response.

Lance thought about it for a moment, but then it clicked. “The new investor?” he asked and she nodded enthusiastically. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she said. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m going to be putting a little extra ‘oomph’ into my routine today, if you know what I mean.” She flashed him a smile, her eyes glinting mischievously.

It wasn’t a bad idea. A good first impression with the money – er, investor – could mean special treatment. And Lance wasn’t opposed to a little sport flirting.

“Rumor has it, he’ll be swinging by this afternoon,” she added with a wink.

That early? Well, in that case, Lance had better start stretching now. He was going to use his first performance as a warm-up, but if that was to be the main event… He shook his head and faced Ezor. “We’d better hurry to the back for dibs on the best costumes.”

“You read my mind,” she replied and then they dashed off.

 

Shiro had just finished the final page of his inventory sheets when Rolo approached him looking a little anxious. “Hey, man,” he greeted.

“Hey, Shiro.” He had his hands in his pockets and his head on a swivel.

“Something the matter?” Shiro questioned, quirking a brow and setting his clipboard down.

“I heard something from Nyma, who heard it from Plaxum, who said she overheard Regris telling Ezor that-” He paused when Shiro gave him a look. “Anyway…” He shook his head. “Apparently, some new investor is coming in to scope us out today.”

Shiro raised his brows. He hadn’t heard an official announcement regarding that, but he did remember Lance mentioning something about it the night before. Of course, it was a long night and Lance had said a lot of things. His cheeks warmed at the memory of some choice words better not repeated in public. And certainly not in front of his subordinate.

“Well, I’ll check with the owner, but, if that’s the case,” Shiro started, rubbing his chin, “We’d better make sure this place is in tiptop shape.”

Rolo nodded, though his expression as he gazed at the back of the bar said everything. With Shiro in charge, the bar was always in best form. But it didn’t hurt to make certain all of the backup bottles were front-facing. They were supposed to impress this potential investor, after all.

Sometime later, when the cargo pilots started to file in, signaling the end of their shifts and the start of the first rush, Shiro heard the familiar fanfare of Lance’s entrance music. He placed a few shots in front of an alien with eight arms and turned to face the stage.

He’d had Lance earlier that morning, but watching his lover strut out like he owned the place made Shiro want to hold him in his arms. Especially when he dropped his outer layer and showed off a light blue, sequined one piece, complete with fringe and a matching necktie that sparkled under the bright lights.

Since everyone at the bar was happily drinking and all of the servers’ orders for the tables had been filled, Shiro allowed himself to take in a show, marveling as Lance danced to the music, easily dropping into splits and straddles. And he hadn’t even started the aerial portion.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shiro saw the club doors open, the bright, natural light of day flooding the dimly lit room for a moment before they blocked it out once more. After his eyes readjusted, he spotted a rather intimidating-looking group.

There were five of them in total. Two were larger body-guard types, tall and muscled and easily bigger than the club’s own bouncers. Another two were short, but vigilant. One stayed close to the person in the middle, while the other – who curiously had a cat-like creature perched on their shoulder – kept just behind.

But the person in the middle was the one who caught Shiro’s attention. He was tall, shorter than his guards, but definitely a head above Shiro, with long silver hair and lilac-colored skin. His entire appearance screamed riches, from his tailored suit to the huge diamond-looking gem he wore on his finger.

His entourage, however, spoke of darker, more sinister things. And when Shiro got a feeling, it was wise not to ignore it.

Still, he watched as this man was escorted to his chair – something the hosts did when they smelled money on a client. The others dispersed, the two smaller standing just behind him and the larger stalking to opposite ends of the club.

Shiro didn’t like not being able to keep an eye on all of them.

The audience gasped and he turned just in time to catch Lance spinning on stage, suspended high above the crowd on his silks. For a moment, Shiro forgot about the mysterious man and his gut feeling, and just watched in awe.

Only vargas earlier, that same body was tangled up in hotel sheets, his warm skin pressed tightly to Shiro’s, and his mouth hot and insistent against his. He blinked, dismissing the daydream. He was at work, after all. Though, if he could sneak away after Lance’s performance ended…

But when Lance’s feet touched the ground, instead of walking backstage, he descended the steps just at the front, weaving his way between the tables and blowing kisses as he went. He didn’t stop until he was in front of the suspicious man.

Shiro grit his teeth. Again, it wasn’t unusual for the entertainers to be called over to tables or even asked for a private performance, but there was something not right about all of this. He felt it.

Lance began twirling about, mouthing along with the song, the foreign alien words memorized by now. He was entrancing and gorgeous. And as he drew nearer, the man reached his hands out, catching Lance around the waist and attempting to pull him closer. Try as he might, Lance couldn’t pull away from him.

And it was then that Shiro saw red.

He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten from behind the bar to the man’s table so quickly, but the next moment, his fist ached – his knuckles split – and there was the heavy weight of both Rolo and Nyma holding him back as he attempted to hit the man again.

“Shiro, what are you doing?!” Lance’s voice snapped him out of it. He turned toward him, catching wide, oceanic eyes filled with fear. He was scared. Of him.

Shame washed over Shiro and he slumped in Rolo and Nyma’s hold.

What had he done?

 

Lotor wasn’t interested at all in sponsoring some filthy club on some no-name moon in the middle of nowhere. But his father had been insistent upon their names and faces being attached to it. And Lotor was sure that had _nothing_ to do with the major trade ports located on the two moons adjacent.

But, like his father, he was an opportunist. The only trait he’d admit to sharing with him. And so, if he was going to be dragged to some dive, he would at least look for something enjoyable.

Then he saw him, a beautiful man with gorgeous tan skin and legs that seemed to go on forever. He was dancing on stage, wearing a sparkling powder blue costume and twirling amongst dark silks. He was as talented as he was lovely and, when he finished, Lotor called him over.

This man was flirtatious, sparing a wink and blowing a kiss to every patron who cat-called, but then his focus was entirely on Lotor, a playful and almost devious grin curving his lips.

“Hello, there,” he greeted. “Care for a private dance?”

Lotor thought himself eloquent and refined, but he simply nodded, barely managing a quick, “If that’s what you’re offering.” He caught the way Acxa turned toward him, her brows drawing down in concern or confusion, but he ignored her, his full attention on the beautiful man before him.

“How are you liking the show so far?” he asked as he spun around.

“I’m enjoying it quite well, thank you,” Lotor replied, his eyes raking over the other’s form.

The music changed slightly, the singer joining the instrumental and speaking in Altean. Lotor could only gaze on as his dancer mouthed the words almost perfectly. He was completely entranced.

Then he drew closer to Lotor’s table and something odd happened. He stopped moving, glancing down in confusion. The fringe of his costume had gotten caught on the edge of the table. He tried to pull free, but nearly fell forward. Lotor caught him, his hands flying to his hips to keep him from taking a tumble.

“I’m so sorry,” the dancer apologized, still trying to free himself.

Lotor was about to assist him, but he was suddenly knocked from his chair, white hot, searing pain blossoming in his cheek as he fell to the floor.

“Get your hands off him!” someone roared and he looked up, his palm coming to the side of his face as he finally focused on his attacker. Two members of the staff were already holding him back. Not that Lotor needed them. He could take this man on. He’d only gotten that lucky shot because Lotor had been distracted.

But he needn’t have retaliated. Because, a second later, the dancer was free and standing between him and his assailant. “Shiro, what are you doing?!” he shouted and the man, Shiro, seemed to have realized his mistake.

There was a flurry of movement after that. Acxa and Narti were quick to help him up, while both Zethrid and Sendak made their way over, their posture clearly showing they were ready for a fight. However, Lotor waved his hand in dismissal, standing up the rest of the way on his own and dusting off his suit.

The owner of the club dashed over, standing between Lotor and his dancer – and, of course, Shiro – He was apologizing profusely, but Lotor didn’t want to hear it. His cheek ached and all he really wanted was to get the metallic taste of blood out of his mouth.

“Let’s get you out of here,” someone said from his side. He turned and saw another one of the dancers, wearing a golden sequined outfit. Her skin was a bright red color and she had a sort of multi-colored tentacle coming out of the top of her head, which twitched a bit as she waited for him to respond.

“Out of here?” he questioned, noting the way his bodyguards were handling the manager for him.

“Cleaned up,” the girl replied with a slight huff, but she was smiling. “You don’t want to get blood all over that nice jacket of yours, do you?”

Lotor looked down and then back up at the other dancer. “Very well.”

“Great.” She flashed her teeth and called another woman over. “Nyma and I will take care of you,” she explained, hooking her arm in his and hauling him away from the table and toward a door in the back. “I’m Ezor, by the way.”

Lotor let Nyma and Ezor lead him through a silver door. He barely caught sight of the other performers changing before he was pushed through a curtain. “Have a seat,” Nyma said and then turned toward a large, wall-mounted first aid kit.

Ezor simply sat on the small bed in the room, patting the spot next to her. “Take a load off.”

With a quirk of his brow, Lotor acquiesced. “Thank you,” he began, but cut himself off with a hiss as Nyma came at him, pressing a liquid-soaked sponge against the laceration on his cheek. “Ancients!” he cursed.

“Looks like he broke the skin,” Nyma sighed with a shake of her head.

“But you’re lucky,” Ezor chirped happily from beside him, earning a sideways glance in her direction.

“Lucky?” Lotor queried.

“Shiro went easy on you,” she answered, leaning back to rest on her arms and kick her long legs up in the air like a child.

“That-” Lotor said and winced when Nyma placed a cold pack against his swollen cheek. “Thank you,” he managed, bringing a hand up to replace hers in holding it. Then he tried again. “That was going easy?”

“Well, yeah.” Ezor gave a little shrug. “I mean, your head’s still attached, isn’t it?” She grinned and when Lotor didn’t seem amused, she added, “That was a joke.”

“What Ezor means to say is that Shiro used his left hand,” Nyma clarified, upending a bottle before handing Lotor two pills. “Swallow these.”

Not one to ingest anything from someone he didn’t know, Lotor accepted them and placed them in his pocket. “For later,” he said. “And…his left hand?”

“Shiro’s right-handed,” Ezor explained as she nudged Lotor in the arm. “He could have done some serious damage if he’d used his prosthesis.”

Lotor pondered for a moment, trying to recall the other’s appearance. He didn’t remember any dangerous-looking attachments. Only a livid face, filled with rage and something else Lotor couldn’t quite place, handsome, despite the anger contorting it. But, if Shiro’s limb was anything like his bodyguard Sendak’s, the girls may have been on to something.

 “That,” Nyma added as she walked over to join them on the bed, which was feeling smaller by the dobosh. “And the fact that he could have easily pulled away from Rolo and me.” She gave a smile then, looking past Lotor to Ezor, on his other side. “I think Lance has made him soft.”

“Lance?” Lotor began, but then it clicked. The dancer. Shiro had punched him because of the dancer! No wonder he looked so upset. “Interesting…”

“Soft,” Ezor snorted from beside him, pulling him from his thoughts. “That’s not what _I’ve_ heard…”

 

Shiro hung his head in shame as he trailed behind Lance. The owner of the club was still apologizing to the man’s bodyguards, two of which had left to follow after their master as he was led away for medical care.

Because Shiro had hit him.

It had been a long time since he’d lost his cool like that. But there was always a small part of him that feared he’d return to how he was before. He couldn’t go back to that life. Not after how far he’d gotten away from it. He had a good job, a good life. And Lance.

Oh, God. Did he even have Lance, anymore? The other man was facing away, trudging forward and taking Shiro toward the back offices. He wouldn’t even look at him.

But would Shiro want to see his expression now? Would it be terrified like it had been earlier? Or angry? The last thing he ever wanted to do was to scare Lance and he’d done it. All because he couldn’t control himself.

Lance opened the door to the cash room and stepped to the side, letting Shiro walk in. There was one chair inside, next to the large safe that also served as a desk. Shiro stood beside it, intent on letting Lance have the seat, but when the other closed the door, he finally spoke.

“Sit down,” Lance said and then crossed his arms over his chest.

Shiro obeyed, not wishing to anger or disappoint him further. But he didn’t speak. He wet his lips and waited for Lance to continue.

Instead of saying whatever it was on the tip of his tongue, Lance closed his mouth and knelt down, searching through stacks of receipts until he found a small box hidden among them. It was a tiny medical kit.

“Let’s hope none of this is expired,” Lance said as he popped it open and dug around. “I can’t believe you,” he went on, pulling out a small tube and uncapping it. “Your hand?” he said, holding his out.

Shiro immediately set his palm against Lance’s, wincing when the other brushed his thumb over his split knuckles.

“Ruling out temporary insanity,” Lance began as he applied the ointment, “What made you think that punching our potential new investor was a good idea?”

“Potential new…” Shiro trailed off, his eyes going wide.

“Ah, just now figuring it out, huh?” Lance condescended, pressing his thumb into Shiro’s knuckles with a bit too much force than rubbing in ointment necessitated. “Honestly, Shiro… What was going through your head?”

“I…” Shiro started, swallowing. “I thought he was attacking you.”

Lance stopped and blinked a few times before looking up at Shiro from where he was kneeling before him on the ground. “Attacking me?”

“He had his hands on you and…” Shiro bit his lip. “You looked like you were struggling to get away and I…I just…” He brought his other hand to the side of his head, gripping his short hair with metal fingers.

“So…you were worried about me,” Lance concluded, turning to reach into the box for a bandage to wrap the wound. “Like…defending my honor or something?”

“Something like that,” Shiro agreed, closing his eyes. Lance’s long fingers were gentle as he carefully wrapped his hand.

“For the record,” Lance said, voice soft. “That was very brave.” He paused. “Stupid,” he added, “But brave.”

Shiro remained silent, but he opened his eyes when Lance began massaging his sore hand. “Lance?”

“He wasn’t attacking me,” Lance explained. “My costume got caught on the table and I fell over,” he said. “He just caught me and I was so worried about making a bad impression, I tried to pull away and…” He sighed. “Just don’t do anything like that again, okay?” He laced their fingers and gave a little squeeze. “If you got fired and had to leave…”

“I wouldn’t leave you,” Shiro said suddenly, causing Lance to look up at him again. “Even if the owner does choose to let me go, I would never, ever leave you.”

“Shiro…” Lance searched his eyes and then gave a watery laugh before slumping down to rest his forehead against their joined hands. “You’re a good man.”

Shiro didn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully, there was a knock on the office door, saving him the trouble. Lance stood up before he could, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his gloves before answering.

“You’ll be happy to know he’s not pressing any charges,” the owner said, looking like he needed his seat far more than Shiro did. So, Shiro stood up and offered it to him. “Thank you,” he said in a whoosh before collapsing onto it. “He would like to speak with you, though.”

“Does that mean Shiro gets to keep his job?” Lance asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yes, thank goodness,” the man replied, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief, his other three hands patting his round belly, probably to calm one of his many ulcers. “Can’t run this place without him.”

“Thank you for the opportunity, Sir,” Shiro said quickly. “I promise I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t,” the owner replied, but there was no heat behind his words.

“So,” Lance went on. “The investor wants to speak with Shiro?” He bit his lower lip, a nervous crease in his brow. Shiro longed to smooth the wrinkle with a soft kiss, but he knew better than to act on that at the moment.

“Both of you, actually,” he said and both Shiro and Lance exchanged glances. That was…unexpected.

 

Lance quirked a brow. He totally got why the new investor would want to speak with Shiro. After all, Shiro had decked him but good – even if he had used his left hand. That hadn’t escaped Lance’s notice – But he wanted to speak with Lance as well?

“We’ll meet with him right away,” Shiro said and the owner shook his head.

“Shiro, you and I will go ahead,” he began and then faced Lance. “You can join us after you get changed.”

Lance frowned at that, but followed the owner’s eyes toward the bottom half of his costume. In his hurry to pull away from the table and stop Shiro, he must have ripped the fabric. There was a tear from his hip all the way up to just under his ribcage. He flushed. It wasn’t exposing any more than his two piece outfits, but he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed.

“Okay,” Lance agreed. “I’ll see you out there in a dobosh.”

Their boss nodded and stood up, only falling back into the seat once before he waddled over to the door. “I’ll check to make sure he’s ready and then come for you, Shiro.”

“Yes, sir.” Shiro nodded and then the portly alien disappeared through the door.

“He wants to see us both,” Lance spoke his thought aloud, gaze flicking toward Shiro to gauge his reaction. He’d explained that the investor – _potential_ investor – wasn’t attacking him, but did that mean the three of them should be chatting so soon after the whole Shiro punching him in the face thing? He wasn’t so sure.

“I will apologize and explain that you had nothing to do with it,” Shiro promised. “I made a huge error in judgement and I sincerely hope he’ll understand not to take it out on you.”

Lance opened his mouth to retort, to say that neither one of them should have anything taken out on them, but the owner returned, beckoning Shiro to follow after him. Still, before Shiro walked through the door, Lance reached for his hand – the prosthetic one, rather than the injured one he’d just patched up – and gave it a squeeze.

Shiro turned and smiled, returning the motion before letting go and leaving him alone.

With a sigh, Lance walked out of the office and headed toward the dressing room. He was so focused on dealing with the inevitable backlash he’d surely receive to notice that the place was nearly empty. It wasn’t until he reached the spare costumes that he finally realized.

“Well, _you_ certainly made an impression.” Ezor’s voice caught him off guard, echoing in the vast, empty space. He turned to face her and she grinned. “I think Lotor likes you.”

“Lotor?” Lance blinked and Ezor’s smile faded as she rolled her eyes.

“The investor. Duh.” She shook her head and put a hand on her hip. “He seems to have taken a shining to you.”

“Me?” Lance tried to act disinterested as he slid a few hangers down, pretending to study the different costumes on the rack.

“Yes, you,” Ezor returned. “You know, the one he got _punched_ over?”

Lance winced, his fingers stopping as they brushed against a bright red teddy. “How is he?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Ezor went on, studying her nails. “Nyma and I patched him up all nice and pretty.” She paused, glancing up at him. “And he _is_ pretty, isn’t he? Well,” she quickly added, “before Shiro attempted to rearrange his face.”

“ _E…_ ” Lance whined. “Please tell me he’s not going to return the favor?” He waited, knowing the owner said that Lotor wouldn’t press charges, but also knowing how people settled their affairs this far out in space.

“Oh, I’m sure Shiro’ll be fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I mean, I think he likes him, too.”

“What?” Lance blinked, but Ezor continued.

“Anyway, stop looking through those,” she said, placing a hand over his on the hangers. Then she reached over and pulled out another costume, one Lance hadn’t seen before. It was light lavender with a deep neckline and just the barest hint of a skirt at the bottom. “Lotor said he wants to see you in this.”

Ezor practically shoved the garment into Lance’s hands. “He did, did he?” He lifted a brow.

“Well, I may have made a few suggestions…” She grinned. “Anyway, hurry up and put it on!”

Lance did as he was told, but with an air of suspicion. He and Ezor were co-workers and good friends, but they were still rivals. And if the man with the money liked him more, she stood to lose out on certain…incentives.

“Okay,” he said, once he’d changed. “Why are you helping me right now?”

“Um…because we’re friends?” she offered and at Lance’s deadpan expression, she continued. “Okay, listen. Lotor already likes me,” she said. “I took good care of him and told him all about you and Shiro-”

“You what?!” He gasped, eyes wide.

“And then I helped him pick out a pretty little outfit for you to wear,” she went on, ignoring his outburst. “I’m already in his good graces.” She beamed. “And I didn’t even have to take my top off.”

Lance just stared at her in disbelief. Yes, Ezor was a gossip. It was how they’d bonded when he first started working at The Cabana. But for her to tell a stranger – a super rich stranger who could potentially be their boss’s boss – all about his and Shiro’s affair, well…that was a bit much. Even for her.

But Ezor was oblivious to his panicking. “Anyway,” she went on. “You’d better not keep the man waiting.” She placed her hands on Lance’s shoulders and steered him toward the door. “Now, get out there and make mama proud!” she ordered and then disappeared before Lance could object.

He could have gone back and looked for her. She was fast, but lacked the ability to teleport – unlike one of his favorite acts before they packed up and moved on to greener pastures – but he figured it was time to face the music. He just hoped he could flirt his way out of this one for both his and Shiro’s sakes.

Then again, Ezor said that Lotor liked him. So, at least he had that going for him.

When he walked out into the main area of the club, he shouldn’t have been surprised to find it empty. Well, not completely empty. Three men sat at a table near the front of the stage – the owner, Shiro, and Lotor – and two more stood just off to the side. Bodyguards, by the look of it. Lance vaguely remembered seeing them earlier, but his attention had been on the man with the lilac skin and glossy platinum hair.

“Ah, there he is,” Lotor called out to him, lifting a hand in greeting. “And I see Miss Ezor was correct,” he mused, his blue and yellow gaze raking over him, “That color looks exquisite on you.”

Lance flushed, heat spreading down his chest and to the tips of his ears, but he smiled through it, lowering his lids and sauntering over. “Why, thank you,” he whispered huskily, only just catching the way Shiro looked up at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Indeed I do.” Lotor flashed sharp, perfectly white teeth. “Now, your manger here tells me that the silks are your specialty,” he went on. “I did so enjoy your performance earlier.” He leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “Might we see a bit more?”

“Of course!” Lance was quick to consent. If it eased the smoothing over of things, he was happy to showcase his talent for the man. “I’ll begin right away.”

Though, as Lance happily made his way backstage, he noticed that none of the other staff remained either. He knew how to lower the rigging for his silks and he could certainly make do without them raising or lowering during his performance – he practiced by himself often before Shiro started taking up most of his free time – but it was still odd.

But it had to be done. So, he turned on the music, flipping to his favorite playlist, and walked out onto the stage.

 

Shiro shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sure, Lotor had been nothing but cordial during their meeting, even going as far as to compliment Shiro on his impressive left hook. But he couldn’t relax. Not when the two smaller of Lotor’s bodyguards were glaring daggers at him from their places on either side.

Well, one was glaring, the other had that curious cat-like creature do the staring for her.

“He’s quite good, isn’t he?” Lotor said, interrupting the owner as he turned toward the stage. “Breathtaking, really.”

“Indeed, Mr. Sincline,” the owner agreed. “One of our best.”

“Clearly,” Lotor said, eyes drinking in Lance’s form.

Shiro grit his teeth, but said nothing, afraid of what might come out. Still, his gaze was drawn toward Lance’s performance. Flawless, as always. That color really did suit him. Though, Shiro thought he looked even better in blue. Or black.

“Now,” Lotor began, turning back toward the owner. “As we agreed. I should like to enjoy my private showing.”

“Of course.” The stubby man bowed his head. “I’ll clear the place out immediately.”

Shiro frowned, tearing his gaze away from Lance’s fluid movements and focusing back on the conversation. “Excuse me?” he managed, noting the way both bodyguards shifted in his periphery.

“As restitution,” Lotor clarified. “I have bought the club out for the evening,” he said. “Though, I should like for you to stay as well, Mr. Shirogane.” He grinned, the sharp points of his canines on display, and Shiro felt an odd sensation run up his spine.

“Yes. Very good.” The owner stood up and bowed again before facing Shiro. “Please lock up when Mr. Sincline has had his fill for the evening.”

Shiro just gaped at his boss. In all the time he’d known him, he’d never agreed to sell any one client the entirety of the club. Of course, these were mitigating circumstances. But it still made Shiro uneasy.

“I promise we’re not getting you alone to exact any type of revenge,” Lotor said from his side, pulling Shiro from his thoughts. “And, as a show of good faith, I’ll have my bodyguards vacate the premises, as well.”

“Sir!” one of them began, but Lotor raised his hand, silencing her.

“Acxa.” He glanced back at her. “Zethrid and Sendak are already waiting in the car,” he said. “Take Narti and join them. I’ll meet you back at the ship before the next cycle.”

Acxa didn’t dare speak out again. She simply nodded and walked toward the exit, the other guard following behind, her cat curling around her shoulders and relaxing.

“Well, now that that’s done,” Lotor said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Shall we enjoy the show?”

It felt strange being alone in the club with anyone other than Lance. But Shiro nodded. He needed to make things better after his egregious error. “As you say, Mr. Sincline.”

“Please,” he said leaning closer. “Call me Lotor.” He grinned again, his eyes glinting in the low light of the club. “And I should like the pleasure of calling you Shiro, if you deem it so.”

Shiro swallowed and wet his lips, but nodded.

“Good.” Lotor laced his fingers and returned to watching Lance perform.

The song had changed and now Lance was slowly spiraling down, the tips of his toes just kissing the stage before he began climbing once more. The way he moved was a pleasure to watch and Shiro found himself getting lost in the performance.

Finally, the song came to an end and Lance landed gracefully, turning toward them and taking a bow. He was sweating, his face flushed and his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

Lotor stood up, clapping loudly and even going as far as to whistle through his fingers. “Encore!” he called and, instead of taking his seat, he walked closer to the stage, leaning against it. “You were magnificent,” he said in a low voice, though Shiro was near enough to hear.

“Thank you,” Lance replied, smoothing his sweat-drenched bangs from his forehead and beaming. “Just a little something I’ve been working on.”

“Well, it seemed show-ready to me.” Lotor smirked and that strange sensation worked its way up Shiro’s spine again. However, he didn’t give it much thought, as Lotor had turned and was motioning him over. “I’ve heard you mix the best drinks in the quadrant,” he said, still smiling, the bruise and tiny cut on his cheek barely visible now – thanks to whatever Nyma and Ezor had given him. “Why don’t you whip something up for the three of us and we’ll get back to negotiating?”

Shiro furrowed his brow, wondering just what the other man had planned. But he decided against questioning him further. Not until he had a drink in his hand. And Shiro could use one, as well.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, though his gaze was firmly on Lance, the other nodding – a signal that he was comfortable being left alone with Lotor, even if it was just on the other side of the club.

 

Lotor watched as Shiro walked over to the bar, taking a moment to appreciate the other’s toned backside. As it turned out, he wasn’t such a bad guy. Though, the slight sting of his cheek spoke otherwise. Still, Shiro had only done that because he believed he was protecting Lance. And, according to Ezor’s detailed recollection, it was more than just the bar manager looking out for one of his fellow employees.

No. Shiro and Lance had something more going on behind the scenes.

Typically, such news would deter Lotor. He wasn’t one to steal one’s mate away. However, Lance was damn near irresistible. And Shiro was a fine specimen, himself. So, Lotor had come up with a little plan. To use Shiro’s folly in his favor.

He’d bought out the club. The three of them were alone. Now all he had to do was see if they held any interest. He was above blackmailing and exploitation – in this regard. He was his father’s son when it came to sealing deals in the business world. But this was a matter of the heart.

“You don’t have to stand there,” Lotor said, finally glancing away from Shiro’s impressive physique and facing Lance. “Please, have a seat.” He patted the smooth wood of the stage.

“Oh.” Lance flushed and Lotor enjoyed the way the color spread down the plunging neckline of the light purple outfit he wore, the rhinestones glittering under the lights. “Thank you,” he said as he took a seat, crossing his long legs and letting them dangle off of the stage’s edge, his knee just brushing Lotor’s hip.

Interesting…

“Your movements are remarkable,” Lotor praised him, daring to move a bit closer. “Entrancing, even,” he breathed, catching sight of the slight bob of Lance’s throat as he swallowed.

“You flatter me,” Lance returned, leaning in. “But were they good enough to keep the long-time interest of a businessman such as yourself?” He batted his eyelashes and Lotor couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course Lance knew who he was. But that only made this all the easier.

“I’m still considering, I’m afraid,” he fibbed. He knew full well that his father wanted the Sincline name attached to this particular hub. But Lotor didn’t have to share that little tidbit.

Lance’s face fell, but before he could open his mouth to reply, Shiro was back, carrying three glasses in his hands. They were rather tall and curvaceous, filled with a frothy liquid that was light teal at the top, but shifted to a dark blue at the bottom.

“Those look interesting,” Lotor remarked. “But do they taste good?”

“Of course, they do!” Lance cheered, reaching out for one. “Shiro makes only the best!” he added with another swipe of his hand, but Shiro pulled the glasses just out of his grasp. Lance pouted.

“That’s Lotor’s,” he chastised with a slight frown.

Immediately, Lotor was on alert. He hadn’t seen Shiro mix the drinks. He could have easily slipped poison into one of them. Was that why he was keeping it away from Lance? But then Shiro continued.

“Yours is the virgin one,” Shiro said, handing the slightly lighter-colored of the three to a still-pouting Lance.

“I’m not a child, Shiro,” he complained, but wrapped his lips around the straw, anyway.

“I’m aware,” the other replied with a knowing smirk. “But you just finished performing and you need to rehydrate,” he added. “I’m not about to pump alcohol into your system.”

“Killjoy,” Lance teased, but there was no heat behind it. If anything, it came across as flirtatious. And Lotor wondered if Ezor wasn’t the only one who knew about their little affair. Either that or everyone else in the club was completely blind.

“Here,” Shiro interrupted Lotor’s thoughts, holding out both drinks, allowing him to pick. That set Lotor’s mind at ease. He didn’t know Shiro that well and, even after their brutal first meeting, he didn’t pin the man as someone so underhanded as to poison his enemy.

After all, Lotor thought as he chose a glass and took a sip of the sweet liquid, he was hoping the three of them could be good friends.

The drink went down smooth, but Lotor could already feel the heat of it settling in his belly and spreading out through his limbs. It packed quite the punch, it seemed. But more than the alcohol, he was focused on the two in front of him. Lance was toying with his straw, slowly bringing it to his lips and giving a languid suck before swiping his tongue to catch any stray droplets.

Shiro was staring, his eyes dark. And Lotor thought now was as good a time as any to implement his plan.

“So, have the two of you ever fucked on stage?” he asked, smiling around his straw as they whipped their heads in his direction, eyes wide.

“E-Excuse me?” Shiro blinked, his drink nearly slipping out of his hand.

“Now, now. There’s no need to be shy,” Lotor said, setting his glass on the table beside them. “A little birdy told me all about you two,” he explained. “Though, with the way you flirt so openly, I would have wagered a guess without her input.”

They both swallowed.

“So, answer the question,” Lotor urged, eagerly awaiting their response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Lotor doesn't mess around. Straight to the point, lol.
> 
> Only one more chapter left and it's _super_ spicy  >:3c  
> Please look forward to it~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the final part~  
> As I mentioned in the last installment, this is _very_ spicy, hehe.  
>  (Check out the newly added tags, haha)

Shiro shot his lover a nervous glance, but was surprised at how quickly the other had recovered. Lance sighed and mouthed a name: ‘Ezor.’ And suddenly, it clicked. She’d helped to take care of Lotor’s injuries. And Shiro was familiar with her work. It was no wonder the other man knew about them.

“No,” Shiro finally managed. “We haven’t.”

“So, you’ve kept it to backstage trysts?” Lotor continued, reaching behind him to grab a chair and pull it close enough so he could take a seat, his eyes never leaving them.

This time, Lance answered before Shiro could. “Only at work.”

Shiro raised his brows, but didn’t correct him. What good would it do them to lie? Especially if Ezor had told Lotor everything she knew.

“So, this,” Lotor began, gesturing between the two of them, “continues off the clock, as well?”

Both Lance and Shiro nodded.

“I see…” Lotor rubbed his chin and cocked his head to the side. “I suppose, since you both did me the honor of being completely honest, I shall do the same.” He grinned. “I’m interested in you.” He was looking at Lance. Shiro’s stomach dropped.

Of course. Anyone who’d ever laid eyes on Lance would take notice of how beautiful he was. Striking and graceful. Friendly and effervescent.

Was that what Lotor wanted in return for his silence? For not pressing charges?

“Both of you,” Lotor finished, gaze shifting toward Shiro. He brought his straw back to his lips and took a long drag before setting his drink down.

Shiro was at a loss. Lance, he understood. But what could Lotor possibly want with him?

“I was captivated by Lance’s performance when I walked into the club,” Lotor continued, having clearly realized neither was going to reply any time soon. “I think I’d like to see some more.”

Lance shot him an unsure look, but Shiro nodded. “Go ahead, baby.” There was no need to hide their relationship now. “If you’re not tired.”

Relief washed over his features as Lance smiled. “Not even a little.” Then he stood up and walked over to the silks. But he paused when Lotor called out to him.

“Actually, I was wondering if I might make a suggestion?” he said and then chuckled. “A request, really.”

“Of course.” Lance nodded.

“A costume change is in order, I believe.” Lotor smirked.

“If that’s what you’d like,” Lance replied, mirroring him. “Do you have a preference?”

“Yes, actually.” Lotor reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin strip of fabric. Lance’s brows rose to his hairline. He must have recognized it.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, gaze darting between the black satiny material and Shiro. He wet his lips. “It was Ezor, wasn’t it?”

“She said you planned on wearing this tonight,” Lotor explained, twirling the garment around his index finger.

It was then that Shiro realized what it was.

“A thong?” Shiro managed, shocked. “You were going to wear that on stage?” He looked up at Lance. The dancer had worn some skimpy costumes in the past, but this was tiny. It would leave nothing to the imagination. Hell, Shiro wasn’t even certain it could properly contain him.

“Not on stage,” Lance argued, still looking at him, his cheeks tinting. “For you.”

Shiro swallowed, imagining just what that teeny scrap of satin would look like, barely covering anything, but promising that there was more to see. And Lance planned to wear it just for him?

“If this is an...” Lotor paused, as if trying to find the right word, “ _outfit_ for a special occasion, then I won’t force you to change.” He sighed, pulling the fabric taut. “Shame,” he sighed. “I imagine you would have looked lovely-”

“I’ll wear it,” Lance said, crouching down and snatching the underwear from Lotor’s grasp before he had a chance to object. “I bought them to wear for Shiro. But I don’t mind if you get a glimpse,” he almost purred toward the end and Shiro felt his blood pressure rise.

“I see.” Lotor stifled a chuckle. “And that wouldn’t have anything to do with my thinking about investing in your place of work, now would it?”

Lance, the gifted flirt, had returned, no longer embarrassed by the other man’s questions. “Not _just_ because,” he stressed with a wink. “Now, you boys sit still while I go and get changed.” And, with that, he disappeared behind the curtain.

“He’s feisty,” Lotor commented. “I like him.”

Shiro clenched his jaw before taking a deep breath and turning toward the investor. “Speaking of which,” he said, getting Lotor’s attention. “You said you were interested in Lance.”

“In both of you,” Lotor corrected and then continued before Shiro had a chance. “Lance is gorgeous, talented, and someone I wouldn’t mind on my arm,” he paused, lips curling. “Or in my bed.”

Shiro bit back a growl. He knew he and Lance weren’t exclusive. Though, he certainly wasn’t seeing anyone else. And Lance had never mentioned any other lovers. But the thought of the other man lusting after his Lance didn’t sit right.

“You, too,” Lotor went on, seemingly oblivious to Shiro’s rising jealousy. “You’re cool and calm now, but I’ve seen you at your most dangerous.” His eyes flashed. “No one’s ever laid a hand on me that way.” His tongue came out to lick the corner of his mouth, still a bit red. “I want you both.”

Shiro was flabbergasted, lips parting as he tried to formulate a response, but the words didn’t come. Lotor had made it more than obvious, but it had still taken him completely by surprise.

“But I do understand that you and Lance have something…special,” he said, choosing the word carefully. “I’d like to see that.”

“See it…?” Shiro blinked, not sure what the other was getting at.

“On stage,” Lotor clarified. “When Lance returns-” but he paused when the man in question padded back out from behind the curtains, clad in the skimpy black thong and nothing else. “Ah, and there he is now.”

“Oh?” Lance quirked a brow, placing a hand on his hip and puckering his lips. “Were you two talking about me?”

 

Lance waited for the men to respond, his gaze falling on Shiro out of habit. His lover looked a bit out of sorts and Lance was about to ask what the matter was when Lotor cleared his throat, grabbing his attention.

“Lance, we’ve seen some amazing aerial acrobatics from you this evening,” he said, crossing one leg over the other and resting a hand on his ankle. “But I think you’ve been holding back.”

“Holding back?” Lance echoed, trying to sound more amused than annoyed. He always gave his all. And Lotor had only seen him perform twice.

“Please, I meant no offense,” Lotor continued, clearly more perceptive than Lance had given him credit for. “I’m merely asking to see you at your most provocative,” he explained.

“So, you wanna see my sexiest pose, huh?” Lance questioned, a grin splitting his face. “You’ve got it.”

“Excellent.” Lotor beamed at him, resting back in his chair.

Lance smirked. He knew just the pose. It wasn’t particularly complicated – for him, anyway – but it always blew the audience away. And so, without wasting any more time, he reached for his silks and began twisting them, raising himself so he could get in the proper position.

It took some doing, but he was limber and his arms and legs were strong – albeit still a bit sore from the ‘workout’ Shiro had given him the night before. But he finally paused, breathing deep.

His back was bowed and curved, his head nearly brushing the outside of his thigh. One leg was straight, his toe pointed, and that’s where he focused, his head tilted back. The other leg was bent at the knee, above him in his upside down position, while his arms gripped the silk to keep it taut.

This position showed off his flexibility, as he was nearly bent in half, and the way the silks were wrapped tightly around his upper thighs and lower back really accentuated his ass. It was the focal point, really.

Lance stole a glance toward his audience. Shiro was watching him fondly, having seen this maneuver before, his dark eyes soft and a small – dare he say ‘proud?’ – smile curving his lips. Lotor, on the other hand, wore an expression that appeared to be a mixture of delight and concern.

Wait. Concern?

“Everything okay, Mr. Sincline?”

“Lotor,” the man corrected. “And, yes, I’m quite fine. You, on the other hand…” He rubbed his chin. “I can’t imagine that’s comfortable.”

Lance let out a wheeze of a laugh, his contorted form unable to manage much else. “Are you kidding?” he teased breathlessly. “I could stay like this all day.”

“Well, for what I have in mind, I think you should find a more…comfortable position.” He smirked then and, for some reason, it caused tingle of excitement to race up Lance’s spine.

“Oh?” Lance asked, slowly easing himself down, unwrapping the silks from his limbs until he was seated on them like a swing. “And what do you have in mind, _Lotor_?” He stressed the other’s given name and he swore he could see the Lotor’s pupils dilate from where he sat on stage.

“I began discussing the subject with Shiro before you returned, but I haven’t yet gotten a chance to ask properly,” Lotor explained and then eyed Shiro. Lance followed suit, surprised to see that his lover’s face was tinted pink, his mouth open in a small ‘o’ as if he’d only just realized something.

“Well, ask away,” Lance offered, kicking out his legs and swinging back and forth.

“Very well,” Lotor uncrossed his legs and leaned on the table beside him, his face inches away from Shiro’s, but his voice loud enough that Lance could still hear. “I would very much like to see you and Lance fuck on stage.”

Lance faltered, his eyes widening as his swinging slowly came to a stop. His pulse quickened. Sure, he’d been propositioned by many a fan and patron in his time working at The Cabana. But this was the first time one had asked to watch him. Well, not just him. Lotor wanted to see Shiro fuck him.

And Lance…well, Lance had to admit the idea excited him. Far more than it should have. He and Shiro had spent most of their time together trying to hide from the others, the thrill of almost getting caught enough to send Lance over the edge.

But to invite someone to watch?

“What do you say, Shiro?” Lotor asked, his gaze still on Lance. “Or should I ask Lance’s permission first?”

Shiro visibly swallowed and then stood up. For a moment, Lance thought he might hit Lotor again. But instead of assaulting their possible – probable – investor, his lover simply walked closer to the stage, his eyes dark and his face flushed. “Baby,” he breathed and Lance’s heartrate accelerated, heat pooling in his belly as Shiro gazed up at him. “You want to give him a show?”

Lance found himself nodding, his gaze following Shiro’s form as the other man walked to the steps and climbed up onto the stage. He looked calm, as if having Lotor watch them didn’t faze him in the slightest. And when he approached Lance – looking up, as his head was level with Lance’s chest in this swing position – he gently set his hands on his knees, leaning forward and speaking in a hushed tone.

“Are you sure?” Shiro asked so only Lance could hear.

“I am,” Lance managed, enjoying the way Shiro’s palms slid against his bare knees, his fingers loosely gripping the tops of his thighs. “But, uh,” he paused, wetting his lips. “Are _you_?”

“I wasn’t at first,” Shiro confessed and then looked down at his feet before peering up sheepishly through his bangs. “I may have wanted to keep you to myself…”

That had Lance’s heart thundering in his chest. Yes, they spent most every night together. And yes, they were more or less committed. Right? Well, they hadn’t really said that, but Lance definitely wasn’t seeing anyone else. And despite his sweet, almost shy demeanor, Shiro’s gaze was hungry. Possessive.  And Lance loved it.

“Is that right?” he whispered, leaning closer to Shiro. “So, what changed your mind?”

“The thought of me showing Lotor just who you belong to,” Shiro replied, voice deep and dark and doing things to Lance. “If that’s all right,” Shiro added, always the considerate one.

“Mmm…” Lance hummed, kicking his feet out and wrapping his legs around Shiro, pushing his heels against his lover’s back and pulling him closer. “Then let’s show him.”

 

Lotor waited rather impatiently as Lance and Shiro spoke too quietly for him to overhear. It seemed as though they were going to do as he asked. But he wondered if perhaps he’d overstepped. After all, he’d only just met them. Hell, Shiro had decked him before he’d even learned his name.

But then the two turned his way, smirks on their faces and their eyes half-lidded, and Lotor _knew_. He knew whatever was about to happen next would be worth any altercation and certainly worth the price of buying the club out for the remainder of the night.

Tantalizingly slowly, Lance lowered himself on the silks, wrapping his wrists for support and keeping the swing-like seat beneath him. The silky black thong he wore had shifted a bit, giving Lotor a glimpse of what would soon be revealed to him.

Once he was in position, Lance crooked his finger, calling Shiro back over to him. And Shiro, who must have stepped backstage at some point while Lotor’s eyes were glued to Lance, strode back over to him, holding a bottle in his hand.

Ah, a resourceful man, that Shiro. Lotor smirked.

“Ooh, my favorite,” Lance cooed, spreading his legs and leaning back against the silks, practically presenting himself.

Shiro closed the distance between them, rubbing one hand up and down the inside of Lance’s thigh while he popped the top of the bottle with the other. Lotor watched as Shiro poured a fair amount of the lubricant into his hand before setting the rest down. Then, in a practiced move, he pushed aside the undergarment, leaving Lance exposed.

From his spot, it was hard to see exactly what was going on center stage. But judging by Lance’s long, sweet-sounding moan, it must have been good.

“Tell me what he’s doing,” Lotor requested, his dress pants suddenly far too restricting.

Lance and Shiro turned his way, their eyes wide. Had they honestly forgotten he was there? Well, that wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Lance,” Lotor said, smoothing his hair back and flashing his teeth. “Tell me what Shiro is doing to you.”

“O-Oh.” Lance wet his lips, his pink tongue catching Lotor’s attention. “Right, um, he’s got two – _ah_ – three fingers inside me…” His eyelids fluttered shut as he tossed his head back. “Grinding against my...” his words dissolved into moans as Shiro worked him open, knowing exactly where and when to move. It was clear they knew each other’s bodies well. Lotor was in for a treat.

“Has he been adequately prepared, Shiro?” Lotor asked after a moment, his gaze lingering on Shiro’s arm, the way the muscles bunched as he worked them, wringing moan after moan from Lance.

“Yes,” Shiro answered, letting his fingers slip free. And Lotor didn’t miss the needy little whine that escaped Lance’s lips. “Shh,” Shiro soothed, rubbing Lance’s thigh again. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Lance nodded, adjusting his grip on the silks and inching closer. “Fuck me,” he said, his tone leaving no room for objection. Then he glanced over at Lotor, the high blush on his cheeks the only hint at this being their first time ‘performing’ in this way. “Show him how you fuck me.”

And Shiro was quick to acquiesce. He unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down enough to reveal his erection, standing proud and larger than Lotor would have guessed. Then Shiro pulled a foil wrapper from his back pocket, easily tearing it open and sliding the condom onto his cock. He released a pleasured hiss at the contact.

“Please,” Lance begged, gripping the silks with white knuckles. “Fuck me, Takashi.”

And that did it.

Lotor groaned in time with Shiro as the other man slid into Lance. What a sight it was. Shiro, big and broad, and Lance, lithe and surprisingly strong, easily taking him, his head thrown back in pleasure as he was filled.

“Oh, Shiro, fuck,” Lance moaned, his hips undulating as he fought to take him deeper. “Is he watching?” he gasped. And Shiro turned his head, dark eyes boring into Lotor’s.

“Yes. He’s watching.”

 

Shiro had never considered himself an exhibitionist. In fact, nearly getting caught – as arousing as it seemed to be for Lance – usually had him on edge. Until, of course, Lance distracted him from everything else.

But right now, with Lance tight around him and Lotor’s gaze hot and steady, he was starting to think differently.

He snapped his hips forward, earning a surprised and pleasured moan from his lover. He couldn’t believe they’d never tried this before. Lance was practically floating in front of him and the angle was perfect, allowing him to easily find his sweet spot.

“Shiro!” Lance purred, digging his heels into his lower back. “Why…have we never…tired this?” he panted, echoing Shiro’s earlier thoughts.

Shiro chuckled. “I’m not sure,” he growled, his grip on Lance’s hips tightening. “But we’ll definitely have to do this again.”

Lance nodded, his head lolling as he hummed. “Yeah. Definitely.”

It was easy to get lost in Lance. To have the rest of the world melt away, so everything that Shiro breathed, tasted, and felt was Lance. But for some reason, this was different. Yes, Lance had his attention, but Lotor was very much present, his burning gaze impossible to ignore.

And when Shiro managed to tear his own gaze away from Lance, he sucked in a breath at what he saw. Lotor, this rich man who could have anything, was not just watching them. But he was enjoying it. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed, and he was not even trying to hide the fact that he was slowly palming the obvious tent in his pants.

“Oh shit, that’s hot,” Lance gasped out, obviously having noticed where Shiro was looking. “He’s getting off to us,” he said, breath hitching. “Holy fuck, I could come right now.”

“Don’t,” Shiro ordered, turning his attention on Lance again, his thrusts slowing to a stop. “Not yet.”

Lance sucked in a breath, a flush spreading down his neck. Then he gave a slow, wicked grin. “What are you thinking?” he asked, squeezing around him and snickering when Shiro grit his teeth at the hot, tight sensation.

Lance was so damn flexible. Yes, physically, but mentally, too. He was always ready to try something new. He never backed down. It was one of the many, many reasons Shiro loved him. And, sweet unadulterated fuck, did Shiro love him.

He glanced back over at Lotor, whose hand had slowed as he noticed their lack of movement.

“Lance,” Shiro began, knowing that, if he suggested what he was about to suggest, he needed to say something first. “I know this isn’t exactly the most opportune time and place.” He chewed on his lower lip, trying to decide if he should go through with it or not. “And, I’d wanted it to be a bit more romantic…”

Lance chuckled, giving him another squeeze. “What’s more romantic than getting fucked while suspended on stage with our boss’s boss watching us?” he teased.

Shiro leaned forward, resting his sweaty forehead on Lance’s slick chest. He could taste the salt against his lips as he spoke. “Lance, I love you.”

Lance froze and Shiro felt the other’s heartbeat speed up. “What?”

It was now or never. Shiro pulled back and looked up at him, trying not to get discouraged by the shocked look on his lover’s face. “I love you, Lance,” he confessed. “For a long time. Probably since the first time. Or before that. I…” He swallowed. “I know this isn’t the-”

But Shiro was cut off when Lance lunged forward, releasing the silks and wrapping his arms and legs around Shiro before crushing their lips together. Thankfully, Shiro caught him. He returned the kiss, loving the taste of Lance against his lips.

“Do you mean it?” Lance panted when they pulled apart. “Don’t say it if you don’t absolutely mean it.”

“I mean it,” Shiro assured him, lifting a hand to brush the other’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. “I love you, Lance.”

Lance’s lower lip quivered before he threw his arms around Shiro’s neck again. “I love you, too! Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to-” he paused, shaking his head. “Shit.” He rubbed at his eyes.

A scraping of chair legs on the floor caught their attention.

“This seems to have taken a turn for the sentimental,” Lotor said, pushing some loose strands of his hair back and adjusting his suit as he stood. “Perhaps the two of you would like some privacy?”

“No!” they shouted at the same time and then faced each other.

“No?” Lance quirked a brow, a grin curving his lips.

“Well, I was actually going to suggest something before…you know…” Shiro’s cheeks burned at the ridiculousness of this whole situation. But he couldn’t say he wasn’t overjoyed. Lance loved him!

“Ah, before you confessed your love to me,” Lance replied, tapping a finger on his chin. “Now, what was it you were going to say?”

“I was going to ask,” Shiro began, his gaze falling on Lotor once more. “If you wanted Mr. Sincline to join us.”

 

Lance’s mind was reeling. Shiro loved him. He loved him! They were in love. That was pretty damn fantastic in his book. But the fact remained that they were still very much in romantic embrace, Shiro’s cock hot and hard inside him. And Lotor was still watching them, though he’d stood up as if he was about to leave.

But Shiro had made a suggestion. A wickedly hot suggestion. And Lance moaned at the thought of Lotor joining them.

Shiro was his. And Lance was Shiro’s. But adding Lotor just this once might be…interesting.

Okay, really fucking hot and interesting.

“Ooh, I like that idea,” Lance replied, bringing a hand up to twist a finger in Shiro’s damp forelock. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Well,” Shiro began, his hands coming to grip Lance’s ass and he eased him back into the makeshift sex swing. “This-” he gave Lance’s ass a squeeze “-is mine. But maybe…”

“I do hate to interrupt,” Lotor said, doing just that. “But am I hearing this correctly?” He walked closer to the stairs and looked up at them. “Are you proposing that I join in?”

Lance snorted. “You heard the man,” he said to Lotor, gesturing toward Shiro with his chin. “As much fun as it was having an audience,” he paused, biting his lower lip in the most enticing way possible. “It’ll probably be ten times as fun having you up here with us.”

Lotor arched a brow before slowly ascending the steps. “You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” Lance promised, though he had no previous experience to base it on. “Shiro doesn’t want you to fuck me,” he amended, gasping as Shiro gripped his ass tighter, grinding against him. “But-” Lance shot his lover a reprimanding little glare before facing Lotor again. “I think I can make you feel plenty good with my mouth.”

Ah. There it was. Lance watched as the gears turned in the investor’s head. Slowly, a smirk graced his lips. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm…” Lance purred, arching his back giving Shiro another squeeze to let him know he was still with him. “Now, let’s see if we can’t flip me over.” He gave the silks a little tug. “I think I’d like to be a bit more…comfortable.”

It did take some doing, but Shiro – bless him – could lift Lance like he weighed nothing. He manhandled him until he was on his belly, the silks still supporting his weight. Lance’s hands were busy, his wrists still wrapped tightly to keep him from falling on his face. He gripped the fabric as Shiro slid back inside him, stretching him in the most delicious of ways.

“Ahh…” Lance sighed contentedly, his eyes slipping closed. “Gotta try _this_ position again, too.”

Shiro grunted in agreement as he ran his hands down Lance’s back to cup his ass. “Great view.”

“Flatterer,” Lance accused as he opened his eyes and glanced over his shoulder. “Now, as for Lotor…” He turned back toward him, his face level with the other’s crotch. Perfect. “You’re going to need to lose those pants.”

Lotor raised his delicate brows and held his hands out as if waiting for Lance to do something.

“I’m a bit tied up at the moment,” Lance said with a snicker. “You’re going to have to help me out.”

“Help you out?” Lotor drew closer, his fingers finding the clasp of his belt. “And here I thought I was the one making requests.”

“Well, that was before,” Lance said, breath hitching as Shiro slowly began thrusting again, one hand on Lance’s lower back to keep him from moving too much. “And – ah – this is now.”

“I see…” Lotor dropped his belt to the ground and unzipped his pants, letting them fall away. His underwear was now the only thing between Lance’s face and Lotor’s cock. And, wow, just by the outline alone, Lance knew he was packing some heat.

“Don’t be shy,” Lance said, voice more breathless than he would have liked, considering how authoritative he was trying to be.

“You’ll find, Lance,” Lotor began, lowering his underwear and giving his cock a few pumps with his fist. “That I am far from shy.”

Holy. Fuck.

Lotor was huge. And not just big, but…he was unlike anything Lance had seen before. Sure, he’d gotten around before he met Shiro. But, whoa, there was something to be said about Lotor Sincline.

“Think you can handle that, baby?” Shiro asked from behind him. And it was only then that Lance realized he’d been staring.

“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly. “But you better believe I’m going to try.”

 

Lotor bit back a chuckle at the look on Lance’s face. The man was practically eating him with his eyes. Though, Lotor could certainly appreciate the sentiment. Before him was a sight to behold. Lance, almost completely naked, his body suspended in the air, and Shiro buried inside him, slowly thrusting, his own gaze shifting from his lover’s backside up to Lotor’s cock and back.

A delicious sight indeed.

Lotor moved forward, cocking his head to the side. “How shall I assist you?” he asked.

Lance looked up, blinking for a moment before he caught on, his eyes glazed and dark. “Oh,” he said, wetting his lips. “Step closer and hold it for me?” He said it like a question, but Lotor took it as a demand, especially considering the look of hunger in the other’s eyes.

Shiro groaned at the words. And when Lotor looked up, it was just in time to see the other man peeling his shirt off and tossing it behind him. Now he, too, was bare.

Lotor felt overdressed.

“Just a moment,” Lotor said, almost apologetically, as Lance was now pouting. He stepped out of his pants and kicked off his shoes and socks before removing his shirt as well. “I felt left out,” he explained, his smile widening as Lance furrowed his brow before glancing over his shoulder and sucking in a breath when he noticed that Shiro was naked, as well.

“Guess that makes us even,” Lance murmured. It was probably meant to be funny, but it came out too husky. Too needy. Then he paused, facing Lotor once more and looking as though he’d just remembered something. “Um, are you…? I mean, have you…?” He trailed off, his gaze dropping for a moment.

Lotor caught on. “You needn’t worry,” he said. “As someone who frequents several ports, I can assure you that I’m thoroughly decontaminated between…visits.”

“Oh.” Lance blinked. “Well, then.” He flushed, but then bit his lip seductively, his mind clearly eased by Lotor’s words. “In that case,” Lance continued, batting his eyelashes. “Let’s get you both inside me.”

Lotor and Shiro moaned in unison and this time, Lotor didn’t hesitate to step forward, the head of his cock brushing against Lance’s lips. “If you insist,” he purred.

“I’m afraid I do,” Lance replied before darting out his tongue and giving Lotor a teasing kitten lick. He sucked in a breath at the sensation, watching as Lance’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s sweet,” he whispered in awe. And before Lotor could interject, Lance moved forward, wrapping his lips around his cock.

“Oh,” Lotor gasped, reaching a hand out to steady himself. His fingers hovered just above Lance’s head, unsure what he should do with them.

“Go ahead,” Shiro spoke, voice gruff. “He likes it.”

Lance nodded, his mouth still on Lotor’s cock. And Lotor let his hand drop, his fingers combing through Lance’s silken locks. He groaned and gripped the strands when Lance moaned around him, pressing forward and urging Lotor to go deeper.

Well, if it was deeper he wanted. Deeper, he’d get.

He didn’t think he’d fit, honestly. Lance’s mouth had looked far too small. But he was shocked as more and more of his erection disappeared between those smooth lips, engulfed in delicious heat.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Shiro praised Lance, rubbing a hand up the length of his back as he continue to give short little thrusts. He was biding his time, waiting for the moment Lance was ready for him again.

“Yes,” Lotor agreed, petting Lance’s head and moving his own hips. “Do you enjoying having us both inside you?” he asked, his own breath hitching when Lance swallowed around him. Oh, how he wanted to bury himself completely. But he didn’t want to risk hurting him. Perhaps next time…

If there was a next time.

But Lotor shook his head and focused on the here and now. The way Lance’s tongue worked over his length as he tried his best to please him while being unable to move freely.

“Look at you,” Lotor cooed, cupping Lance’s jaw. “You’re beautiful like this.”

“So beautiful,” Shiro agreed. “Gorgeous.” He gave a particularly hard thrust, causing Lance to shift forward and take more of Lotor’s cock. For a moment, Lotor worried he might choke him, but Lance only moaned, his eyes slipping closed as Shiro began fucking him harder. “Can you come like this, baby?” Shiro asked, fingers gripping Lance’s hips to keep him from moving too far. “With just our cocks?”

Lance moaned again, long and low.

Lotor thought he might combust. Lance’s mouth was amazing and Shiro’s dirty talk – albeit surprising – was getting him close, as well.

“You’re so good, baby,” Shiro went on. “Taking us so well... So hot and tight…” He grit his teeth. “I could come right now,” he admitted. “But I want to get you there first.”

Lance pulled back just a bit, not letting Lotor escape, but suckling on the head of his cock between pants for breath. “Shiro…” he moaned and then wrapped his lips around Lotor again.

What Lotor wouldn’t give to hear Lance say his name like that. Broken and wanton.

“C’mon, baby,” Shiro encouraged, one of his hands releasing its iron grip on Lance’s hip to wrap around his neglected cock, causing Lance to arch his back. “You look so pretty when you come,” he said, almost babbling. Like he’d forgotten Lotor was there. “Please? For me?”

Lance pulled his mouth away, sucking in a deep breath. Shiro was thrusting faster now, his hand fisting Lance’s cock, which had already started to make quite a mess on the floor. “Shiro…fuck…” he groaned, dropping his head so his cheek rubbed against Lotor’s cock with every thrust. “I’m-”

“I know,” Shiro said, his own movements becoming erratic.

Lotor’s own hand, which had been holding the base of his erection, began moving almost on its own, his gaze never leaving the pair before him. They were close. So close. And he felt like he might come with them.

And it was just as Lance cried out, his back arching and his cock painting the floor, that Lotor tipped over the edge. He fought to keep his eyes open as he leaned forward, grabbing onto the silks with his free hand to stay upright.

Lance was shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks as he hiccupped, nearing overstimulation.  “Don’t stop,” he wheezed, forehead butting Lotor’s hip. And Shiro continued, thrusting a few more times before he, too, came, burying himself as deeply as he could and leaning over Lance’s body to rest his head between the other’s shoulder blades.

They stayed like that for a moment, all fighting to catch their breath.

Lance was a mess, his body drenched in sweat and his bangs plastered to his forehead. Gingerly, Shiro pulled out, the excess lubricant further adding to Lance’s untidy state. Lotor had spilled onto Lance’s shoulder, some even getting onto the other’s neck and as far up as his cheek.

“Wow,” Lance breathed. “That was…amazing.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed, rubbing his hands up and down the back of Lance’s legs. “Are you okay, baby?”

“I think so,” Lance replied with a chuckle. “But I think I’ve lost feeling in my hands.”

Quickly, both Shiro and Lotor worked to get Lance untangled, setting him down on unsteady and shaky legs.

“I’ve got you,” Shiro said, wrapping an arm around Lance’s middle. Once he was sure that Lance was as all right as he claimed, he looked up, his gaze meeting Lotor’s. “Was this what you were hoping for?” he asked, his tone more curious than incensed. At least Lotor knew Shiro hadn’t regretted it.

“I’ll admit that I didn’t think we’d get this far,” Lotor confessed. “But I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Oh yeah?” Lance asked, his head tilting up. “I’m that good?”

Lotor chuckled. “Yes, you’re that good,” he said and then paused, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Did you two enjoy it?” He cleared his throat. “My being here.”

“Uh, duh?” Lance gestured toward himself and then at the mess he’d made of the stage. “I thought that much was obvious.”

Lotor nodded. “And Shiro,” he said. “You, too?”

The other man hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I didn’t think I’d be okay sharing Lance with anyone,” he admitted. “But I can’t deny it.”

“There was a certain…sexual energy we all shared,” Lotor agreed. “Perhaps, should I choose to invest in your little club, we could do this again?”

Lance and Shiro exchanged glances, the latter giving a grin that Lance returned tenfold. He faced Lotor, his cheeks flushed. “We’d be insulted if you didn’t ask.”

 

And that was how it all began. Shiro continued tending bar, Lance performed to a packed house every night, and Lotor tended to visit The Cabana far more than any other location with the Sincline name.

After all, they were young and they had each other. Who could ask for more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy ending line is cheesy~ (still trying to loosely tie it to the song, haha)  
> I hope you all enjoyed this fic!! I'm really happy with how it turned out.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know what you think and feel free to hit me up on my Voltron sideblog [@bleucheesy](http://bleucheesy.tumblr.com) (main: [@jubesy](http://jubesy.tumblr.com))


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